The soft hum of the hyperdrive and the distant murmur of voices from the main hold filtered into Mission's consciousness, pulling her reluctantly from the depths of sleep. She stubbornly resisted at first, burrowing deeper into the warmth beneath her. The surface was firm, steady—too steady to be a bunk. She furrowed her brows, still half-asleep, before a subtle shift beneath her made her stomach drop.

Her eyes flew open.

She was curled up against Seth's chest, legs tangled with his as they sat on the cargo hold floor. His back rested against a stack of plasteel crates, one arm slung loosely around her waist, as if it had settled there naturally while she slept.

Mission went rigid, barely breathing. Oh, kriff.

Seth stirred at her sudden tension, glancing down with an amused smirk. "Good morning to you too."

Mission scrambled to push herself upright, nearly kneeing him in the ribs in the process. "What—why—How did this happen?"

"You fell asleep," he said, unfazed. "I couldn't wake you up."

Her eyes narrowed. "Couldn't? Or wouldn't?"

He hesitated for a half-second too long.

Mission groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "Seth."

"You haven't been sleeping," he pointed out, his voice softer now. "Not really, not since Taris. You were out cold. Waking you up just seemed…wrong."

She froze at that, the truth in his words hitting harder than she wanted to admit. It wasn't like she'd been keeping track of her sleep, but she knew she hadn't had more than a few solid hours at a time. She exhaled, shaking her head. "Still doesn't explain why I ended up on top of you."

Seth shrugged, but his teasing grin was back. "Maybe you just gravitate toward comfort."

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. "Maybe I just got lost."

"You're always welcome to get lost with me."

Mission went still, something flickering in her chest at the way he said it—casual, effortless, and yet, it carried weight. Don't read into it. She needed to change the subject.

A familiar growl came from the doorway, and Mission twisted around just in time to see Zaalbar eyeing them with an expression that could only be described as thoroughly unimpressed.

Seth cleared his throat, shifting like he'd just now remembered he had an audience. "Hey, Big Z. What's up?"

"[Carth says we're landing in less than an hour. He wants everyone in the main hold.]"

Mission had never been so grateful for an interruption.

[Mission Briefing: Ahto City and the Republic's Request]

The main hold was already full by the time Seth, Mission, and Zaalbar arrived. Carth stood at the holotable, arms crossed, while Bastila observed the rotating display of Manaan with a sharp, analytical gaze. Juhani stood to the side, listening. Canderous, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else, leaned lazily against the wall, but his sharp eyes took everything in.

"The entire planet is one big ocean," Carth explained, gesturing to the image. "No landmasses, no solid ground. The Selkath built Ahto City on the surface to accommodate offworlders. It's the central hub for the galaxy's kolto trade, but it comes with a catch—strict neutrality laws."

"Neutrality?" Canderous snorted. "With both the Republic and the Sith stationed there? Sounds like a powder keg."

"It is," Bastila confirmed. "The laws prohibit violence of any kind. If you so much as threaten someone, you'll be arrested."

Canderous smirked, rolling his shoulders. "I'll try to keep my hands to myself. No promises for the Republic pilot, though."

Bastila exhaled through her nose. "I can trust Carth to maintain his focus. But can you, Seth?"

Seth, who had been listening quietly, arched a brow. "Excuse me?"

Bastila turned her attention to him fully. "You've faced the Sith before under dire circumstances, but this is different. You'll be walking among them without the ability to act. Can you handle that?"

He met her gaze evenly. "I did on Taris."

She nodded, as if assessing him. "This isn't just about anger, Seth." Her eyes flickered toward Mission, just briefly. "All emotions must be controlled."

A tension settled over the room. Mission stiffened. Oh. We're doing this now.

Seth's expression remained neutral, but his posture shifted—shoulders squared, jaw tight. When he spoke, his voice was measured, calm. "With all due respect, Bastila, my personal life is not your business."

"The fate of the galaxy is at stake," she countered, steel in her voice. "Everything that happens on this ship is my business. I expect you to act accordingly."

Silence. A heavy, awful silence.

Seth said nothing, but Mission saw the way his fingers flexed at his sides before he exhaled, forcing himself to relax. Then, in a quiet, respectful tone, he said, "Understood."

Bastila studied him a moment longer before giving a curt nod, satisfied.

Mission, on the other hand, was fuming. She has no right. Not now, not after everything Seth had been through. But she bit her tongue and kept her expression neutral.

Carth, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. "Right. Well. Right now, we don't have any leads, but we may have some allies who know the lay of the land and can help us get on the right track."

He turned back to the holotable, switching the display to a schematic of Ahto City's infrastructure. "We'll need at least a few of you to hang back with the ship and get us checked in with the port authority, because they're just about as strict with that as they are everywhere else on this damn planet. The rest of us will head over to the Republic Embassy to see if we can't get some help from our people while we're here."

He paused, a quick glance around the hold ensuring that the team was locked in, before pushing himself up off the holotable and clapping his hands together definitively. "Okay, strap in, people. We'll be landing shortly."

The transition into the atmosphere was smoother than most planets they had visited. The Ebon Hawk coasted through wisps of cloud cover before breaking into a clear view of Ahto City, a gleaming silver sprawl resting atop the deep blue sea. The reflection of the sun against the water sent shimmering light across the structure's curved walkways, its domed architecture reminiscent of Coruscant's upper levels—pristine, orderly, and grand. But there was something colder about Manaan. The beauty masked a tension in the air, a quiet undercurrent of unease.

The docking bay came into view, bustling with Republic and Sith personnel alike, moving through their respective security points under the watchful eyes of Selkath guards. The Ebon Hawk set down with a smooth thud, and as the ramp lowered, the humid ocean air greeted them. Mission took a deep breath, surprised by the scent—salty, fresh, a stark contrast to Taris' Lower City stench.

"Feels too clean," Canderous muttered as he stepped off the ramp. "Places like this? They always got something ugly hiding under the surface."

Bastila, as always, was focused. "Stay sharp. The Republic and the Sith walk these streets under an enforced truce, but that doesn't mean they aren't watching us. No unnecessary attention."

Seth nodded, taking in the mix of armored Sith troopers and Republic officers moving stiffly past one another, their glares restrained only by the presence of the Selkath enforcers standing vigilant at every checkpoint. It was a fragile peace, held together more by necessity than trust.

"The Republic Embassy should be this way," Carth said, gesturing toward a main causeway leading deeper into the city. The streets were paved with a smooth white alloy, making the entire city gleam under the twin suns of Manaan. Elegant water channels ran between the walkways, their gentle currents the only thing breaking the eerie quiet of the upper levels.

They made their way through the city, weaving through clusters of Republic officers and Sith patrols who did their best to ignore each other under the watchful gaze of Selkath enforcers. The strict neutrality of Manaan meant that, for now, outright hostilities were avoided, but the tension was palpable—eyes lingered too long, hands hovered over blasters, and hushed voices carried veiled threats between opposing factions.

Seth caught sight of a group of Selkath merchants watching the scene unfold, their expressions unreadable. Were they truly neutral, or were they simply waiting to see which side offered the better deal?

As they approached the Republic Embassy, a domed structure adorned with the Republic's insignia, Mission stole a glance at Seth. "You think we'll get any straight answers in here? Or just more political bantha fodder?"

"We'll find out soon enough," Seth murmured. The durasteel doors of the Republic Embassy hissed open, and the crew stepped inside, immediately hit by the contrast between the humid, open air of Ahto City and the crisp, climate-controlled environment within. The walls gleamed with polished white alloy, and the Republic's insignia was stamped into the center of the floor. Officers bustled about, datapads in hand, exchanging hushed but urgent conversations.

Mission whistled low. "Not bad. Not as shiny as the Sith base back on Taris, though."

Canderous scoffed. "Means they're spending their money on war instead of polish."

Seth scanned the room, catching sight of a desk where a young Republic officer was stationed. He approached, keeping his voice steady. "We're looking for information."

The officer barely glanced up. "You and everyone else. You'll have to be more specific."

Seth leaned on the counter. "We're looking for ancient ruins, possibly buried under the ocean floor. The kind that might hold something... powerful."

The officer's expression flickered with something—recognition? Annoyance? "You think we have time to look for sunken treasure?" He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. If you're looking for off-world archaeological sites, I suggest checking the Selkath libraries. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

"I'm afraid that won't do," Bastila cut in, stepping forward. She tactfully flashed the hilt of her double-bladed lightsaber at her hip, ensuring it caught the officer's eye. "We're on a mission on behalf of the Jedi Council of utmost importance, and one hell of a time crunch."

The officer hesitated, his jaw tightening. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he exhaled sharply and gestured toward a side door. "If this is that important, you'll want to talk to Roland Wann, the Republic's chief representative. He'll decide if you get access to anything."

Seth and Bastila exchanged a glance before leading the crew deeper inside.

The central chamber of the Republic Embassy was quieter, a circular briefing room lined with holoprojectors and data terminals. A single man stood waiting for them, his posture upright, his sharp eyes assessing them before they even spoke. His dark uniform was neatly pressed, and despite the heavy responsibility etched into his features, he carried himself with a sense of unwavering confidence.

Roland Wann.

"You must be the ones making inquiries into restricted matters," Wann said, folding his arms. "We don't just hand out classified intelligence to any off-worlders who come asking."

Seth kept his tone level. "We're looking for ancient ruins that predate the Republic—possibly Rakatan in origin. We have reason to believe one exists somewhere on Manaan."

Wann's brow furrowed. "And why, exactly, is this important?"

Bastila took a measured breath. "Because the Sith are looking for them, too."

That made him pause. The Republic officer studied them carefully, then exhaled, rubbing his chin. "You're not wrong. We've been tracking Sith interest in ancient sites for some time now." His voice dropped slightly. "We've even had our own researchers look into potential locations beneath the ocean."

Seth took a step forward. "Then you have data?"

"We did," Wann corrected, his voice darkening. "But a few weeks ago, one of our reconnaissance droids was stolen—taken by the Sith before we could analyze its findings. And that droid is now inside the Sith Embassy, locked behind security we can't breach without sparking an all-out war on Manaan."

Carth frowned. "Let me guess—you want us to get it back."

Wann gave a knowing nod. "You seem capable. If you retrieve that droid, I can guarantee access to all the data we've compiled. And if there's anything in there related to your search, it'll be yours."

Bastila squared her shoulders. "If the Sith are hiding that droid, they must have learned something valuable." She nodded. "We'll do it."

Wann's expression remained firm, but there was the faintest glint of approval in his eyes. "Good. But don't expect to just walk in. The Sith Embassy is locked down tight. You'll need a plan."

Canderous smirked. "Luckily for you, we're good at breaking into places."

Wann turned to the holotable in the center of the chamber, bringing up a wireframe schematic of Ahto City. With a few inputs, the display shifted, zooming in on a domed structure at the edge of the city's upper levels—the Sith Embassy.

"This is where they're holding the droid," he explained. "It's heavily fortified. Standard security includes automated turrets, armed guards, and biometric access points that prevent just anyone from walking through the front door."

Mission whistled. "Okay, so a simple 'knock and bluff' approach is out."

Wann didn't acknowledge the sarcasm. "We've identified three possible ways inside—each with its own risks."

The holotable zoomed in further, highlighting three different entry points.

"We recently captured a Sith spy attempting to steal information from this very facility," Wann continued. "He's been uncooperative, but he may have access to a passcode that could get you through the front security checkpoint without triggering an alarm."

Bastila folded her arms. "Interrogation, then?"

Wann nodded. "If you can make him talk, it would allow for a cleaner entry—provided the codes are still valid."

"The Sith also use encrypted passcards to enter their base. One of our techs is working on decrypting a stolen one now, but it's slow going. If you want to wait, you could take your chances using that."

Mission perked up. "T3 and I could speed that up—if you give us access to the terminal."

Wann inclined his head. "That's a possibility. But if the card doesn't work or they've updated their security, you'll have wasted valuable time."

"Finally," Wann gestured to a side docking bay, "the Sith maintain a shuttle transport between their embassy and their private hangar. It's heavily guarded, but if you can fight your way through, you could get inside before they have a chance to lock down."

Canderous grinned. "Now that's an option."

Wann exhaled. "It's the most dangerous option. The Selkath tolerate the Sith and Republic presence because neither openly breaks the peace. A direct assault will force them to intervene—and trust me, you don't want that."

Carth rubbed his chin. "We're operating under Manaan's neutrality laws, and we've seen firsthand how quick the Selkath are to enforce them. The last thing we need is the Republic getting kicked off-planet because we picked a fight in broad daylight."

Bastila nodded in agreement. "Then we should attempt to retrieve the codes. If deception works, we can get in and out without bloodshed."

Canderous scoffed. "Or we could skip the pleasantries, storm their hangar, and make sure no one's left to alert the Selkath."

Seth sighed. "And if the Selkath themselves intervene? That's a fight we can't win."

Mission tapped the holotable, thoughtful. "I do like the idea of slicing their systems instead. If I can get into their database with T3's help, we might not even need to fake a passcode. We could just walk right in."

Wann crossed his arms. "If you can break their encryption fast enough, that's true."

Seth glanced around the table, considering. "We need to be careful. We haven't met a code T3 and Mission can't crack together yet, so I think it may be worth spending some time in the decryption lab."

Carth nodded. "I agree. In the meantime, Bastila and I will get to interrogating that prisoner. If we end up breaking through with him, we could skip the slicing altogether."
"And what the hell am I supposed to do while you're pursuing those leads?" Canderous asked, crossing his massive arms over his chest.

"You're gonna sit tight and try your hardest not to pick any fights with these nice Republic soldiers," Mission said flatly.

The Mandalorian harrumphed, plopping down into a chair almost dejectedly. "I make no promises."

The decryption lab was dimly lit, the glow from the holoscreen casting shifting shadows across the walls. Strings of Sith encryption scrolled across the display, the decryption process crawling forward, agonizingly slow.

"You here to help with the passcards?" the soldier at the terminal asked, barely looking up. "Wann sent word ahead. Go ahead and take a crack at it. The code's a nightmare, but we've got blank cards if you mess up." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the console.

Seth logged in, fingers moving automatically as the familiar Republic interface flickered to life. Mission leaned in beside him, scanning the screen.

"Private Seth Erich Avery," she read aloud, grinning. "Age sixteen. Height, six foot even. Weight—wait, you weigh one eighty-five?"

Seth smirked, flexing. "Muscle mass."

Mission snorted. "Uh-huh." She gave his arm a light shove. "What muscle?"

Seth opened his mouth to fire back—but then—

A voice.

Soft. Uncertain.

"Seth?"

The air thinned.

His fingers slipped off the keyboard. His pulse stuttered—offbeat, unsteady.

Slowly, he turned.

She stood just a few paces away, frozen mid-step. Ocean-blue eyes, delicate features framed by sleek, golden waves. A face carved into the deepest parts of his memory—one he never expected to see again.

His chest constricted, breath catching sharp in his throat.

His mind blanked. For a second, he forgot where he was.

Mission frowned, glancing between them. She recognized that reaction. The way Seth had locked up, the way every muscle in his body had gone rigid. She didn't know this girl—but suddenly, she had a very bad feeling.

And then—Seth spoke, barely above a whisper.

"...Drea?"

Mission's stomach dropped.

The name. That name.

The one Seth had flinched over back on the Ebon Hawk. The one that had turned a teasing moment into something raw, unspoken, unresolved.

Mission's gaze snapped to the girl, fully taking her in now. The way she looked at Seth, the disbelief, the aching familiarity.

The silence stretched.

Seth couldn't move. Couldn't think.

For the first time since they'd landed on the floating city, the ground beneath him didn't feel steady.